


A Perfect Present

by Canchuon



Series: HashiMada [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Birthday Presents, Crushes, Fluff, Friendship/Love, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Warring States Period (Naruto), bby madara and hashirama crushing on each other, hashirama as sweet cinnamon roll, kids being kids, kids!hashimada, madara as awkward boi, no beta'd cuz author has no friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:49:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23420023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canchuon/pseuds/Canchuon
Summary: Madara wondered if Hashirama would like his present, wondered if the green and yellow colours he dyed the silk in would be of his preference. Madara immediately felt dumb for thinking such things. Was being surrounded by girls for long periods of time making him soft? Or was it actually all Hashirama’s fault?
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: HashiMada [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689580
Comments: 37
Kudos: 133





	1. Hashirama's Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> I've been addicted to Hashimada fics as of lately and kids!hashimada is by far my favourite trope. Canon can just suck it.
> 
> This takes place months after Hashirama and Madara met by the river and became friends. In this story Madara still has his mom and she's an angel okkkk?

Two weeks. It had taken Madara two full weeks to finish Hashirama's birthday present, and he'd done it only two days before the actual date was upon him. 

He huffed out a dramatic sigh and slumped back onto the tatami floor, his arms and legs stretched out tiredly but one hand still clutched to the woven bracelet securely. The girls around him giggled and sent amused smiles his way. 

"Madara! None of us has completed such an intricate piece in such a short time!" Shokko, one of the oldest girls in the group, said, setting the piece of cloth she was stitching together on the floor so she could run her fingers through Madara's hair. 

Aiko, one of his many cousins, clapped her hands a few times, "Impressive! The first one I made was nowhere near as pretty as yours," 

The rest of the girls in the room voiced out their praise for Madara's bracelet, whispering nice compliments and grinning happily at him. They could all agree the boy really did deserve it.

He had shown up unannounced about three weeks ago at the cabin where the clan's young girls always reunited to work together on any sort of crafts, seemingly (and impressively) out of his own will. He'd demanded to be taught how to make a bracelet out of a piece of torn twine he was holding, saying he needed to learn fast. His voice had been so unnecessarily harsh and firm, that all the girls' initial dumbfounded silence turned into a chant of amused laughs. Madara had not been as amused by that, evident by his then angry pout. 

Shokko had taken pity on him and agreed to teach him. It wasn't often that boys came looking after them asking how to make accessories, they preferred hunting, training, or other obnoxious things boys enjoyed doing. 

"First of all, you need better materials than that thing you have on you," Shokko had said back then, pointing at the ugly piece of twine hanging from Madara's fingers. 

The other girls had offered to give him yarn, leather, cotton, or any other materials they had to spare so he could begin weaving his so famous bracelet but he had refused, saying he could find his own and didn't need a girl's help to do so. 

Shokko had laughed and just to mess with him a bit for the comment, had told him that silk was the best material he could get his hands on. He'd listened intently to her instructions on how and where to find silkworms on the mountains and once the last word had slipped out of her mouth Madara was out of the room in a flash. 

In all honesty, she had thought Madara wouldn't find silkworms since it was already autumn and he would most likely give up and forget about the whole ordeal. Oh, how _wrong_ she had been. Four days later, Madara came back with a bamboo box nearly heaping with silkworms and cocoons of silk. Whatever his motivations were, his mind was resolutely set on making that bracelet.

"Are you finally going to tell us who is it for?” Back to the present time, Sara, the oldest girl in the room asked out loud, her almond eyes still glued on the thick strands of bamboo she was threading.

That small question was enough to get all the girls' attention, some giggled and others gasped. This had been the most interesting topic taking place inside the cabin walls for the past two weeks. 

Madara felt a rush of warmth crawling up his neck and rolled his eyes, "It's not for anybody! I just… Uh, wanted to learn…" 

"Come on! Your secret's safe with us, we're all girls," 

"It's obviously not for your mother, confess already!" 

"I bet the girl you're courting will _adore_ it,” 

Trying to keep the stupid blush threatening to take over his entire face away, Madara sat up abruptly on his spot, "You girls are so annoying! I'm keeping it for myself!" he spat, cursing himself for not thinking on saying it was for his mother from the very beginning, that would've been a plausible excuse. He should've known they would pester him about having a crush on some girl; after all, it was Uchiha tradition to give jewelry to the person one held affection for.

Not believing his statements, the girls bursted into a fit of cheeky laughs and some of the older ones hovered around him to pinch his cheeks and pet his hair, all the while muttering things such as _He's blushing!_ and _How cute!_ on high pitched tones. 

Madara snarled and pushed them away, crossing his arms over his chest and hiding part of his face under the high collar of his shirt. Girls were definitely the most annoying thing on earth, nothing could change his mind about it. 

"Shut up! I'm done here so I'm leaving," Madara stood up and slid open the screen doors, ignoring the laughs at his expense, he stomped away onto the compound streets. 

"I can't believe he actually did it," Azumi said, plucking a strand of yellow silk through a thin needle's eye. 

Shokko straightened her posture and smirked smugly, "Of course he did! It was me who taught him," 

They shared a small giggle and went back to their respective works. 

A few moments later, their dark eyes jumped back to the screen doors that glided open with such a force they almost came out of their railings, only to see Madara on his knees and bowing his head at all of them.

"Thank you, for… everything," he said in a shy whisper, not bothering to set the doors in place before quickly leaving. 

Shokko blinked in surprise and then laughed once again, drawing all the air from the bottom of her lungs. That Madara was truly one of a kind. 

* * *

Tomorrow was Hashirama’s birthday. 

Madara rolled around under his heavy blankets. Izuna and he had gone to bed a few hours ago, except he couldn’t fall asleep no matter what he did. He squinted his eyes to the sleeping figure of his brother laying beside him, making sure his eyes were closed and consciousness trapped in some faraway dream. 

He pulled the blankets above his head and dug the silk bracelet from under his pillow. A satisfied grin formed on Madara’s lips as he ran his fingers over the patterns _he_ had woven with _his own_ hands and skills. He had to give some credit to Shokko for showing him, she had been patient and her instructions clear. 

Perhaps girls weren’t as bad as he made them be. After all, it was his mother who came up with the bracelet idea after he had asked her what would make a good birthday present. They had plenty of creativity whereas he lacked it greatly.

He wondered if Hashirama would like his present, wondered if the green and yellow colours he dyed the silk in would be of his preference. Madara immediately felt dumb for thinking such things. Was being surrounded by girls for long periods of time making him soft? Or was it actually all Hashirama’s fault? 

He had to admit to himself that ever since he met the boy last spring, his demeanour had become brighter and happier. He didn’t sulk as much or shoved people away as often. Plus, he always looked forward to their secret meetings and remembered the past ones fondly. Hashirama just had that effect on him, being around him made everything better, made the sun shinier and the cold days warmer. That’s why he wanted to give his friend something nice, wanted to make him smile in that silly way he always did, with his eyes crinkled closed and one end of his lips quirking up higher than the other. 

Madara pushed the gift back under the pillow and closed his eyes. The faster he fell asleep, the faster he would see Hashirama again. 

* * *

Somehow, the thick layers of the kimono Hashirama was wearing were heavier and more uncomfortable than the metal armour he wore on the battlefield. It was sort of funny, how a gown used for a rather happy occasion felt worse than the one used to murder enemies. Sadly enough, he was just more accustomed to the latter occasions.

Running through the muddy woods while trying to keep his white tabi socks impeccable was proving to be a harder task than he thought it would, but then again, he’d barely managed to sneak out when no one was watching and couldn’t afford to strip off the many layers of his kimono. He was already late as it was to his meeting with Madara, so thinking about a change of outfit was out of the question.

Once the sound of the water running along the river reached his ears, a giant smile took over Hashirama’s lips. He knew Madara was already there, on the other side of the river, waiting for him, most likely with an annoyed scowl on his face for keeping him waiting for so long. 

Hashirama picked up his pace and finally jumped onto the uneven ground of the riverbank. Surely enough, across the water was Madara, just as he had predicted, sitting on a big rock with his eyebrows knitted together. 

“Madara!” Hashirama waved his hand enthusiastically, “I’m here! Sorry, I’m late, some of my relatives wouldn’t leave my side and-” 

“That’s why I told you to meet tomorrow!” Madara yelled from the other side, getting on his feet and moving closer to the shore. 

The hand waving above Hashirama’s head dropped down to his side and his smile contorted into a sad curve, “Oh, I see… Well, I’m going back home then, I should’ve-” 

“Hey! I didn’t say you should leave, you idiot!” Madara yelled back and crossed over to get to his now depressed friend’s side, “I’ve been waiting here for hours and you just show up to tell me to go home!?” 

Hashirama’s brown eyes stared at the other boy’s face, he looked bothered but when did he not? “I thought you meant you wanted to meet tomorrow! You’re so hard to understand sometimes, y’know…” 

“Why would I even say that!? You were the one insisting on meeting today!”

Hashirama scratched the back of his neck and looked away, it was true. Madara had told him he should stay with his people in case they got busy with whatever celebrations they had for the day but Hashirama had whined and said that it was an important day and he wanted to spend part of it with him. Madara ended up going along with the plan but it was evident he wasn’t a hundred percent on board with the idea. 

“About that,” Hashirama laughed nervously, “I have to go back really soon, um, I kinda sneaked out in the middle of something…” That earned him a slight punch to the shoulder. 

Madara clicked his tongue and turned around, “See? You just have to admit I’m right most of the time,” 

Hashirama didn’t have to see his face to hear the smugness of his voice. He let out a soft laugh and fixed his haori when a rather cold breeze rattled his clothes. 

“Hashirama,” 

“Yeah?”

Madara turned back to face him and… Was he blushing? Or was it just the chill in the air tinting his usually pale cheeks red? He could see Madara’s hands fidgeting inside his too-long sleeves. 

"Since we're already here you might as well have this… " 

After saying that, Madara stayed quiet for a moment and Hashirama felt so out of place when his eyes wouldn't dare to look at him. He tilted his head to the side and was about to ask what he was talking about when Madara's arm shot up in front of him, his fist curled closed as it was hiding something inside. 

"Happy Birthday," 

Grinning, Hashirama cradled the other's fist in between both of his hands, Madara's fingers were cold but somehow managed to make Hashirama's palms feel hot and tingly. His eyes widened when he looked at the bracelet now resting on his hands. The colours matched with his everyday clothes and the patterns the material formed were something he had never seen before. 

"This is so cool!" Hashirama nearly shrieked and Madara turned his head to the side, "Is this my birthday present!?" 

Madara nodded, crossing his arms behind his head. 

"I love it! It's so cool! Where did you get it?" Hashirama asked, his fingertips stroking the green part of the bracelet in awe. 

"Pfft, I made it! And let me tell you that it's a huge pain in the ass finding silkworms," 

An impressed gasp made its way out of Hashirama's mouth and he stepped closer to the other boy, "Are you for real? You- you made this for me?" 

An uninterested scoff was what he got for an answer, but that had been nearly enough to almost bring him to tears. He knew Madara was saying the truth, he was kind of a bad liar and his flustered demeanour was reinforcing that fact. 

He'd never thought such a small present would get his heart thumping so excitedly against his chest. It wasn't really the size of the gift that caused his chest to fill with so many emotions but how it came to be. Madara had made it himself and had made it exclusively for Hashirama, not anyone else. Short visions of Madara weaving the bracelet and cursing at his mistakes every now and then rushed to his head and made his smile grow even wider. 

Madara stole a quick glance at Hashirama and worried when he caught sight of the way his bottom lip was trembling, "H-Hey! Don't cry!" he yelped hurriedly. 

"Sorry, I'm just… really happy!" Hashirama sniffed and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Madara sighed and took the bracelet back from his hand, quickly working it around Hashirama's left wrist while he watched entranced. 

"Thank you. This is the best present ever," Hashirama murmured and without preamble threw his arms around Madara's neck, trapping him inside his long haori. 

Madara felt his entire body going stiff and his knees buckle. Hashirama was all about emotions and affection and every now and then he didn't mind much about it. The soft touches, the compliments on his hair, or even the times his hands would linger too long holding onto his own, it was fine, really, but sometimes —like right now— he felt so overwhelmed with feelings he'd never experienced before that his mind went completely blank and the only thing around was the sound of his rapid breathing and his throbbing heart. 

"I should go now," Hashirama informed once he pulled away, and Madara immediately missed the warmth that radiated from his body. 

"Yeah… Uh, me too…" 

"I'll see you next week, yes?" 

"Sure, same time?" 

"Same time," 

Hashirama suddenly reached to squeeze Madara's cold hand, all in an attempt to finally get his attention back. His slanted black eyes flew up to give him a questioning look and Hashirama simply smiled at him. As sweet and radiant as he always did. 

And then, Hashirama was walking away from him. Slowly disappearing behind the thickness of the forest trees, the sound of his zori sandals fading against the wind. 

Madara's hand was no longer cold. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ASdaksfnasdsff! There will be a second part.
> 
> Lemme know what you think in the comments below!


	2. Madara's Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a second part to this story as a series and there are more short stories coming there so check it out if you'd like. I'm almost done writing the second chapter for that one so you'll see it soon!
> 
> Btw, I saw some very nice fanart of Madara wearing earrings and lemme tell ya that it is quite the look. Ooff couldn't help myself.

“Look at all this snow!” Hashirama called out from the mound of snow he was standing on, “It's almost as tall as you,”

Madara scoffed, bent down to grab a handful of snow and threw it at Hashirama's face. He snorted as the boy stumbled backwards and fell onto his butt. 

“That was uncalled for,” Hashirama grimaced, wiping his face on the sleeve of his haori and hissing when bits of snow melted under his scarf. 

Rolling his eyes, Madara offered a hand and helped him stand up, "You're such a wuss," 

"I am not! You're just mean,” 

“Whatever,” 

Madara watched as Hashirama wiped the snow off his backside and noticed the sun was already about to set. It was barely past three in the afternoon. It was winter and the days were shorter now, which meant the time he spent alongside Hashirama had become significantly slimmer than before. How unfortunate. 

“We should head home before it gets colder,” 

“Already? But we've only been here for about two hours,” 

“I know but look,” Madara pointed at the faraway horizon, where the sun lingered just slightly above it, “It'll get dark in an hour or so,” 

Hashirama's shoulders slumped, almost theatrically, “Right. You know, we should meet earlier next time,”

“Sure, just before noon is fine for me,” 

Hashirama beamed at him, so bright Madara could swear some of the snow under their feet melted, “It's settled then! See ya next Tuesday,”

“Not next Tuesday, I can't,” 

“Eh? Why?” Hashirama asked, dumbfounded, and his eyes widened when he remembered, “Oh, yeah! It's your birthday,” 

Madara hummed, his breath visible through the crisp air, “I'll see you three days after it, yeah?” 

That seemed reasonable. The last time they tried to meet on an actual birthday date hadn't been that successful.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” Hashirama gave him a longing smile, “I just really want to give you your birthday present,”

He cracked a tiny snicker at how hard Madara was trying to hold back a grin, then trying to conceal it with a show of knitting his brows together. For such a proud personality, Madara got flustered surprisingly easy. 

“It better be a good one,” Madara muttered, suddenly taking a keen interest on the collar of his nagaki, running his fingers along it. 

“Of course it is,” Hashirama confirmed, puffing his chest out, “You’ll see for yourself!”

They shared a chuckle and Madara shoved him with a playful elbow. The sun had moved lower and stunning red and pink hues of light tinted the horizon. Hashirama wanted nothing but to stay longer and admire the beautiful display of colours with Madara by his side.

“Don’t die,” Madara said and started walking toward the snow-covered trees of the woods.

“Same goes for you,” Hashirama replied but did not move from his spot. He waited until Madara’s crunching steps stopped reaching his ears. He turned around and watched as dusk settled over the sky, already wishing to see him again. 

* * *

Their weekly meetings started about seven months ago. At first, Hashirama thought they wouldn't last, thought that one way or another they would find out about each other's clans and then the inevitable would have to happen. Those were the type of thoughts he didn't like dwelling inside his head.

Ten days later, Hashirama found himself at his and Madara's usual meeting spot. As the days went by, the temperatures had dropped lower and the once fresh snow had grown a layer of hard ice on top. Hashirama didn't mind much about the cold, he just wanted to see Madara, it had been a while. 

Madara was never punctual. He had a tendency to show up late so often that Hashirama could count with the fingers of one hand the days he'd actually made it before him. But he found he didn't mind much about that either, it was a small quirk of plenty more that made Madara so unique. 

Hashirama shoved some hardened snow off of a tree stump and sat on it while he waited. He pulled out Madara's present from under his obi and simply kept it on his hand. It was a necklace.

He liked collecting gemstones and two years ago he had found a beautiful turquoise in this very same river. Madara was born in December; therefore, his designated birthstone was a turquoise. It was perfect! Hashirama had been so lucky he hadn't traded it for that opal his cousin had so desperately offered him. 

The original stone had an irregular, wide shape so Hashirama had carved it into an elongated pendulum. He wrapped it around some thin copper wire so it could hang from a black cotton cord. It was a stunning piece and Hashirama was very proud of it. 

“Long time no see,” 

A very familiar voice had Hashirama perking up in an instant. He turned around and greeted Madara with a merry smile. 

“Wow, you sure have changed a lot now that you're thirteen,” Hashirama teased. 

“I still look the same as before, you dolt,”

Hashirama was about to agree but then something caught his eye. 

"That's not true,” he said, pointing at the earrings hanging from Madara's ears, “You didn't have those before!”

“Oh, these?” Madara flicked one of the fans hanging from his ear, “They're just a gift from my mother,” 

Hashirama moved in closer to get a better look at the earrings. They were origami fans, made out of a blue and white stamped piece of paper and hanging upside down from a fine gold chain. They had a tiny golden bell at the very top that chimed softly when it was moved.

“They're so elegant,” Hashirama marvelled and Madara trembled when his finger poked his earlobe, “I never noticed you had your ears pierced,” 

“I didn't, that's why I can't take them off now. If I do, the punctures will heal and close up,” Madara clarified. 

Out of impulse, Hashirama pulled at one earring, which resulted in Madara wincing. He apologized but still got his hand swatted away. 

“Then don't, they look nice on you,” Hashirama admitted with an honest, lopsided grin.

The compliment had Madara's breath get caught somewhere between his throat and diaphragm and he coughed a few times, “I… Thanks, I guess…”

For a second, Hashirama wondered if Madara belonged to the Nara or Yamanaka. Those were the two clans at the top of his head he remembered used earrings as tradition. However, he looked nothing like either of them, he looked more like a… No, he'd rather not finish that thought. 

“Well, I got you a present, too!” He said instead, hanging the necklace in the air. The stone gleamed gracefully with the sun rays hitting its surface. 

The pendant dangled in front of Madara's face and he looked at it, baffled, "You shouldn't have gotten me that…” he muttered, twisting his head to the side. 

That was not the type of reaction Hashirama was expecting at all. His brow dropped significantly, “Why not?”

“Because…” Madara crossed his arms over his chest and Hashirama noticed his nose had a dash of red forming over it, “Y'know…”

No. Hashirama did not know. Did he just not like it and didn't want to admit it? Or was there another reason and Hashirama didn't understand because Madara could be difficult when he wanted to be. 

“Don't make me say it, Hashirama!” Madara barked out. His entire face was flushed red and Hashirama assumed it was not entirely because of the cold anymore. 

“Just say it, I have no idea what you're on about...” 

Madara pouted, took a resigned breath through his mouth and let out his mumbled explanation, “That’s what girls give to the guys they like…” 

Hashirama blinked owlishly, not believing Madara was getting flustered about that sort of thing. But he genuinely was. He was so embarrassed Hashirama wouldn’t even be surprised if he just turned around and stomped away. 

“Dummy,” Hashirama chuckled lightly at first and then laughed. Laughed so hard he had to hold his stomach so as to not bend over and fall face flat on the icy snow. 

“Stop that, jerk!” The pout on Madara’s lips deepened profusely and his blush was now reaching the tip of his ears. 

“You have it all wrong!” Hashirama straightened up but he was still amused, “I didn't know your people do that. This is just a birthday gift,” He said, then moved to stand behind Madara and clasped the necklace around his covered neck. He admired it right after, noticing Madara’s disgruntled expression. 

“Stop scowling, you’ll make the turquoise look bland,” He teased, then playfully pulled the corners of Madara’s lips up with his fingers. 

“Fine, fine, let go now!” That seemed to do the trick, a smirk broke over Madara’s face as he backed away from Hashirama’s grip. He took the stone in his hand and twirled it around, catching streaks of copper and other minerals contrasting with the overpowering pale blue of it, “Is this a real turquoise?” 

Hashirama nodded, “Sure is!” 

“It’s my birthstone,” 

“I know! That's why it's perfect for the occasion,” 

“I’ve never seen a real one before,” Madara ran his thumb over the smooth sides, “You polished it?” 

“Yeah, I'm not really good at it, though,” Hashirama scratched the back of his head, “You okay with that?” He asked tentatively. 

Madara peeled his eyes from the pendant and looked at Hashirama, who had the most sincere smile he had ever seen on his silly face. He was a fool for going through all the hassle to get him such a refined present. And an even bigger fool for making him believe it was some sort of love confession for a split second. The whole thing still made his chest bloom with warmth, that one warmth only Hashirama could light up inside of him with his genuine affection. 

"Why wouldn't I? I really do like it,” Madara smiled, hoping his tone could convey how grateful he was for having Hashirama care for him this much, “Um, thanks,” 

Now _that_ was the type of reaction Hashirama was waiting for, but unexpected often happened when Madara was involved. Didn't mean it was bad, actually quite the opposite, “It's no big deal,”

No words were exchanged after that, only bashful glances and sweet smiles. It was great, having someone who could understand so well that words were not even necessary. 

“Uh… I'll have to keep it hidden," Madara pushed the necklace under his robes and then fumbled with an earring, “I don't want people to get the wrong idea," 

Hashirama broke into another laughing fit, mostly because he liked the way Madara's nose would redden at being teased. Also because it was fun embarrassing him every once in a while. 

“Stop laughing at me, bastard!” Madara lunged at him but Hashirama's reflexes proved to be quicker. 

“Only if you can catch me!” Hashirama challenged, a large smirk mocking Madara as he flipped away from his grasp, “You're so slow!” 

“Don't run, coward!" Madara yelled, throwing his arms to get a hold of Hashirama. He struggled but finally managed to tackle him from the back and they both stumbled to the ground. 

They laughed loudly and then rolled around the sea of snow, trying to get handfuls of ice under the other's clothes.

The scuffle continued for a good while, stopping only until they were damp and their lungs sore from laughing. In the aftermath, they simply stared at the clear, vast sky above them, laying by each other's side on the bed of snow. 

Without saying anything, Hashirama moved his hand and curled his frigid fingers around Madara's wet hand. Madara gave him a soft squeeze. No words were needed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have diabetes.
> 
> Just Google origami fan earrings and you'll see the ones I tried —and failed— to describe. 
> 
> Let me know what you think I love reading comments and love it even more when people drop headcanons so go ahead!
> 
> Take care yo 💜


End file.
